Late at night, I think of you. I think of your body, the way it moves to overtake me at times, the way it reacts to my touch. The thought consumes me at times, leaves me sleepless.
In the middle of the day, I daydream, think of kissing you, wanting you. The days grow full of day-things, time goes by, summer drifts into its laziest month.. And still, I dream.
Are these days wasted, nights wasted? Perhaps.. or perhaps they are days and nights enlightened by the glimmer of desire.